On Humanity
by lin.exe
Summary: Rock and Blues are inexplicably trapped in a world and age that is not their own, and struggling to come to terms with what it means to be human. Then Forte shows up, complicating matters futher. Rock/Forte. Now with Bonus Round!
1. The Arrival

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On Humanity

by Lin.exe

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NOTES: Thus continues my tradition of writing excessive notes before I even get to the story. The following is AU, but more of a branching off from the actual story than a characters-are-inexplicably-in-high-school-with-no-memory-of-their-previous-lives premise. Yes, they are inexplicably in a present-day North American high school, suspiciously similar to the one I attend. But they got there from some point in the canon universe… which I must admit I'm fairly bad with in the first place, as I haven't played the games in years and am going mostly on story summaries. 

Oh, and if for some crazy reason someone here has read my X-Files fic "Thoughts From a Dark Place" and noticed I'm using the same ploy twice, I'll point out that self-plagiarism is probably the lesser of many evils. Actually, I'm thinking about establishing this high school as being in its own separate universe, into which I plan to bring established characters as I please. Meaning yes, Mulder and Scully are somewhere nearby during all this. Lucky them?

Though it might not seem like it now, this story will eventually be Rock/Forte yaoi. And by "eventually" I mean "within the next few chapters because I'm horribly impatient". Illustrations can be found at http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/src.php?sort=dateD&s=&srcht=srcan&srch=lin.exe -- only one so far, and it's a preview of an upcoming chapter.

On with it, then! More notes in the next chapter (joy, huh?). Review, please?

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Rocco Lyman lay his head on his desk and sighed, finally giving in to exhaustion. It was unlikely at this point that this lesson was going to get any more interesting, and sleep was starting to sound like a damn good idea. He could already feel his mind shutting down; the bustle of classroom life fading and distorting in the background. He was beginning to get used to this feeling, he realized. Then all at once it was interrupted by a sensation, and a single thought.

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He's here.

His mind's eye saw a dark figure silhouetted against the afternoon sunshine, entering like a storm through the school's front door. Rocco HAD also been getting used to the lack of these precognitive moments, as they had stopped with his arrival and transformation weeks ago. Yet here it was, and here HE was – the servant of the enemy was here.

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He's taken the title "Ford".

Again, he heard this, but in his own voice. He just… knew. And now in his mind he could see fangs, and the red glint of eyes. Not a mark marred the figure's face, though, and that was different. Then again, though Rocco, everything's different here. A churning began in his stomach, and a tight feeling in his chest. He couldn't tell if it was some nervous reaction to this new development, or if "Ford" was somehow aware of him, and bearing his malice down on Rocco. He shut his eyes and listened to the roaring in his ears. Then, all at once, there was a bell – and the sensation ended with his class. Always careful not to attract undue attention, Rocco slipped quietly out with the throng and started down the hall.

He walked with a lack of presence characteristic of most teenagers, yet wholly uncharacteristic of his former self. He had learned to blend in since arriving in this strange world and age. He had a sickening feeling he would be forced to do so for a long time, as he had neither a clue how he'd come there, nor how to leave. At least Blues – sorry, "Bruce" – was with him, something which had kept him relatively sane and content until, oh, five or ten minutes ago. Now Ford was here, and although it did mean the link between his world and this one remained open, it also complicated matters considerably. He just hoped Ford had come unarmed.

A flash of purple appeared up ahead, and Rick tensed. These students cherished their hair dye as much as the next teenage rebel, but none had yet managed such a hue. It was HIM, and without some drastic evasive action, Rocco would be passing him in a matter of seconds. Their paths converged in the school's massive front foyer, and as they did so the two enemies' eyes met. Locked. They circled each other, tracing a wide orbit on the tile floor – each appraising the other's altered form. Ford looked as predatory as ever, and strong even in the body of an awkward adolescent. After a single slow circuit they halted.

"Hello, ROCK," said Ford, all but spitting the name.

"It's Rocco here, Ford," the brunette corrected him.

"Is it." Ford seemed particularly unimpressed by Rocco's use of the pseudonym.

"Why are you here?" Rocco asked.

"Wily sent me," Ford said with a coldness exceptional even for him. "To kill you."

Rocco swallowed nervously. "It's not quite so simple here. You can't just pull out your blaster in the middle of a school hallway."

Ford narrowed his eyes.

"No," he growled, "I can't."

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He's unarmed! Rocco though with some amount of relief. _He's human, and he's unarmed!_

Sensing these thoughts, Ford advanced, seeming somehow to grow more imposing as he did so. He squared his shoulders and all but loomed over the smaller boy. Then, lightning fast, his hand shot out and grabbed the collar of Rocco's sweatshirt. Stars danced across Rocco's vision as he was forcefully pushed against a pillar, Ford's knuckles digging into his throat. 

"But I can sure kick your little pacifist ass," Ford hissed.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the confrontation was over and Rocco was staring blankly at his opponent's retreating form. Back still pressed against the pillar, he let out a shaky breath and wearily shut his eyes. He couldn't understand why Ford had unnerved him so; he had always been a reluctant warrior, but never a cowardly one. Maybe the way his sense of reality had been turned on its head in the past few months had shaken him more than he realized. Or maybe it was this human body he occupied, so frail and prone to overwhelming emotion as it was.

"Heard you got yourself a gig tonight, bro," said a familiar voice.

Rocco's tension abruptly dissipated, and he turned to face his brother with a sincere half-grin.

"Sure did. The Larchwood Room, doors at six o'clock," Rocco proudly informed him.

"Bruce"'s expression changed, and Rocco realized his brother knew something was wrong. Questioning eyes peered over a pair of well-worn sunglasses. Rocco sighed, and gave in.

"He's here," he said, staring at the ground.

"Wily?" Bruce asked.

"No," Rocco shook his head, "Forte. He's calling himself 'Ford' and… well, he's unarmed, at least."

Bruce was silent, his thoughts likely following the same path Rocco's had. He wanted to leave this place just as much as his brother. Being the older of the two, however, he also had a tendency to be rather protective of his little brother. The fact that Ford was unarmed was good in this respect; that he was still willing to confront Rocco was bad. The question was rather to use Ford, avoid him, or fight him. Rocco was about ready to vote for "avoid".

"We'll discuss this later, okay? I'll see you at the gig tonight," said Bruce, squeezing the younger boy's shoulder then striding off down the hallway.

Rocco nodded pointlessly, then wandered off in the opposite direction. He hoped he could get to his locker and out of the school without running into Ford again. He knew they would be forced to face each other before long, but he was hell bent on delaying the confrontation as long as humanly possible. What WAS this sudden aversion to fighting the former Wily bot? Was it because he knew Ford wasn't a danger to anyone other than himself, making fighting him less significant than it used to be? He'd only really fought in the past in order to protect others, and now that Forte wasn't a threat to the general population, Rocco saw no point in fighting him.

It wasn't just that, though. "Reluctance" didn't really cover his reaction this time. It was something like… fear. But not fear.

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Like fear, but not fear? Rocco thought. _What's THAT supposed to mean?_

Confused, Rocco retrieved his books and jacket from his locker and hastily exited the building. On top of the day's veritable mountain of homework he now had a show to play and some particularly conflicting emotions to work through. Such is the life of your everyday high school student.


	2. The Rock Show

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NOTES: Fastest… update… ever. That and it's so late that I'll be forced to keep these notes short, lest I fall asleep before I can post the chapter.

The "rock show" environment described here is based on my own experiences with all-ages shows in my lil town. They're quite fun, actually. My friend plays bass in a band – a band on which BloodStone is not at ALL based. Nope nope. Well, okay, maybe a little -_-;; Oh, look, it's time to reply to reviews. 

Thankee-sai's go to Popcorn Oracle, AD-chan, Marisa t3h 1337 h4xx0r Peach, and Bibly. 

Popcorn Oracle: Yeah, sorry about the names. I figured that they'd need more normal-sounding names so as not to attract attention in this world -- though you'd think I could come up with something less lame than "Rocco". "Rick" was the alternative. "Ford", though, was the only one I really liked. 

AD-chan: Done and done. ^_^

Marisa: Well, I'll admit I was thinking along those lines when I created Blues' name. Well, not the Batman lines, but the other ones. I promise I'll fit in some explanation, but I warn you it'll be fairly patchy and implausible. I've always had a problem with plot holes.

Bibly: Wai! You reviewed my fic! Je continue, je continue! And hey, I didn't even draw instruments in the illustration for this chapter – just a vague silhouette of Rock's and his bass.

Speaking of which, it actually IS just a coincidence that Rock plays *bass* in his band. I've been thinking of Bass as Forte for so long that I didn't notice until later. Oh, and the aforementioned illustration can be found at http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=103641 

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Rocco's footsteps echoed throughout the Larchwood Room, empty now save a scattering of band members. They had come early to set up the stage and equipment and were now nearly finished with negative fifteen minutes to spare. None of them were particularly concerned about this; all-ages shows in this town were notorious for starting late. The fans had come to expect at least a half-hour wait.

"Umph," Rocco strained, setting an amp down near the front of the stage.

Satisfied he had helped enough for the moment, he retrieved his bass from the corner, plugged it in and began to warm up. During his time in this world he'd discovered he had a proficiency for playing bass guitar. Not long ago he'd befriended a trio of musicians in need of a fourth band member, and had agreed to join them on the grounds that they wouldn't demand TOO much of him. He was, after all, still a beginner. Tonight was their first gig as a foursome – one with the fairly generic garage band name "BloodStone". Rocco was surprised to note how excited he was about the show. Since when was public performance the high point of his life?

"I've been living here too long," he muttered.

"Avoiding any heavy lifting, I see," teased the lead singer, Sam.

His fellow band members had taken Bruce's cue and made a running joke of Rocco's size. Compared to his friends, indeed compared to most kids his age, Rocco was fairly short and thin. The teasing was always good-natured, though, and Rocco didn't mind in the least.

"Nah. Just making sure my bass will drown out your awful voice," Rocco retorted.

"Don't make me cut your strings, kid," Sam warned.

Rocco grinned and continued to warm up, soon joining the rest of the band onstage as people started filing into the room. It looked to be a fair turnout, maybe eighty or ninety people. Bruce was there, of course, easy to spot in his ever-present sunglasses. As Rocco's band was fairly new, they would play first out of a line up of four groups. This meant several things, one being that the crowd would still have a considerable amount of energy – energy for moshing, to be exact. It also meant that Rocco could split and go for ice cream with Bruce if the last three bands weren't so good.

Soon the lights were down and BloodStone began their set, which so far consisted more of covers than any of their own songs. Trying hard to look like he belonged in a band, Rocco swayed and jumped in time with the music as he coaxed out notes from the bass. By the end of their second song he was beginning to gain confidence – which was effectively shattered at the sight of a certain violet-haired audience member making his way toward the stage. Ford now wore a grey toque, but it failed to cover all his long purple locks, and those crimson irises were unmistakable. He appeared to be searching for someone, casting about the mass of people as it writhed and boiled.

The third song started, waking Rocco from his thoughts just in time for him to avoid missing his cue. He'd played this song so many times he hardly needed to concentrate on it, leaving him free to keep an eye on Ford. The object of his attention finally noticed the band onstage, in particular its smallest member. Rocco expected Ford to attack or at least make some attempt to threaten him. Instead he just froze, and stared up at the brunette with an unreadable expression. Rocco was surprised to see actual emotion in those red eyes, rather than their usual blind bloodlust. Just what emotion it was, he couldn't tell. Only that it held a hint of… melancholy, of sadness.

The song was slow and dark, its lyrics expressing nothing but the obligatory teenage angst until the third verse, where it spoke briefly of love. It was then that the look in Ford's eyes changed, while remaining absolutely unreadable to Rocco. Red eyes widened, and whatever emotion was behind them seemed to swirl in building turmoil. They had been watching each other like this for what seemed like hours now, neither one able to break the gaze – much less explain it. Rocco wanted to know what that expression meant, what emotions really were behind those eyes. Why was he just staring like that?

The spell was broken with the song's end. Ford blinked, furrowed his brow, then stared forward blankly as the next song began. This one was faster, and it filled the mosh pit in no time. Ford was struck from behind by an errant mosher, and upon regaining his composure seemed struck by a particularly appealing idea. Spying his sly look and grin, Rocco began to feel more than a little apprehensive. Apparently finding what he had been searching for, Ford disappeared back into the crowd.

Rocco bit his lip and continued to play, hoping this mean Ford had left. There was no sign of him until the band reached the song's third chorus – at which point a blur of grey and purple slammed into Bruce from behind, propelling him straight into the mosh pit. Rocco gasped, but held his ground, knowing Bruce was more than capable of defending himself. He was having trouble keeping an eye on his older brother and violet-haired adversary, surrounded as they were by swirling, restless bodies. 

Suddenly he saw them all too clearly. Ford had his shoulder against Bruce's chest and was forcing him into the midst of a particularly enthusiastic group of moshers. He straightened before Bruce could react and brought and elbow down on the former Light bot's shoulder. Ford then drove a knee into his stomach and shoved Bruce roughly toward the group. Rocco's brother had been caught off guard, and in his human form seemed outmatched by Ford's strength.

"Bruce!" Rocco yelled, and stopped playing.

No one in the crowed heard his cry; the rest of the band was still playing at full volume, assuming he had only stumbled momentarily. Ford, meanwhile, continued to use the mosh pit to his advantage, repeating throwing his opponent into the mass of speeding bodies. Finally Bruce was struck by a particularly large youth and ejected from the pit on the side opposite Ford. Realizing his brother was unconscious and in danger of being trampled, Rocco dropped his bass and jumped down from the stage, driving frantically into the crowd. Behind him the band had finally caught on that something was wrong and ceased playing.

"Bruce!" Rocco shouted again.

He found his way to a break in the crowd, where Ford now stood over his brother's battered figure. The attention of those nearest the scene had quickly shifted away from the band. Several dozen pairs of eyes were now on Ford as he prepared to deliver a final kick.

"FORTE!" Rocco yelled, not noticing the slip.

Ford stopped and looked up at him, his eyes having returned to their usual coldness.

"It's Ford here, Rocco," he said, imitating Rocco's earlier statement.

"Get away from him," Rocco ignored the Ford, more concerned with helping his brother.

"What? Afraid your big brother won't be able to protect you? Are you really so weak here?" Ford taunted.

"Coward," Rocco spat, "your fight was with me, not him. Why didn't you take me on stage back there, huh? Why stand there staring for a whole song then run off and attack the stronger one when he's not even LOOKING? You're a coward, Forte."

Ford blanched at Rocco's mention of their earlier experience. He then growled, baring his teeth and looking remarkably like a cornered animal.

"Is that what you want, Rock? Fine. You'll get your fight, Blueberry," he snarled, then turned an left.

Rocco watched Ford retreat for the second time that day. He then dropped to his knees beside Bruce, grimacing as he took in the damage. His older brother's face was a map of bruises and cuts, and his right arm lay at an unnatural angle. Even his signature sunglasses had been shattered on one side. Ford had wanted to take the stronger one out of the picture, and from the look if it he had succeeded.

"Rocco?" Sam's voice came from behind him, full of concern.

"Help me get him out of here," said Rocco.

Sam nodded, and moved to pick up the unconscious boy. Rocco followed him out to the parking lot, eyes and spirits downcast. Tomorrow he would fight Ford, and this time there was no one to back him up… and no way out.


	3. The Fight

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NOTES: Once again, it is entirely too late to be writing author's notes. Three cans of Coke in the place an actual supper didn't help much, either. Ah, the tribulations of Risk night. 

Now, I'm not sure if anyone's nitpicking (at least I hope not, as this fic's chock FULL of nits) but WERE they, they might address the issue of Bruce's injuries. For example, if they're so darn serious, why is he at home instead of in hospital? Th'answer is that this is set in a town almost identical to mine, and where I live it's nigh IMPOSSIBLE for one's injuries to warrant an extended hospital stay. They probably discharged Bruce after a single night, if that. Universal health care's great until the government allocates all its money to building a fleet of useless boats rather than paying nurses what they deserve. End tirade. 

This chapter's all action. I've never written a fight scene before, so consider this an experiment. In the past I've had a habit of dealing more with emotion than action, making this quite the writing exercise. I promise some good, fluffy shounen ai in chapter four, as that's what this has all been leading up to. This would probably be a good time to mention I've never written yaoi/shounen ai before. *gulp* Wish me luck! 

Thankee-sai's go to: AD-Chan, Marisa, Bibly, Carscard, Teri-Teri, and popcorn oracle.

AD-Chan: I knew I recognized your handle! I love your RMX and Inuyasha art. Hey, this update's a lil later than the last… but iss also a lil longer.

Marisa: Heh… but NO pressure, right? *obligatory sweatdrop*

Bibly: Lordy… annoying is right. 'Course, the simple solution is just to toss them in the mosh pit. Speaking of which, the band I mentioned in chapter two had their CD release show on Friday. Was good… and I almost found myself looking for any suspicious, purple-haired audience members *thwocks self for losing touch with reality again*

Carscard: I could always draw ya one ^_^… or get Bibly to do it, as she's far, far better than I.

Teri-Teri: "His fellow band members had taken Bruce's cue and made a running joke of Rocco's size." -- Shame on me for my ambiguity. I meant his band had found out that Bruce bugged Rocco about his size (in the past) and decided to run with the joke since then. Good eye, though.

popcorn oracle: I knew I wouldn't get to the nice, fluffy scene until after this chapter, so I needed a gazing scene to tide everyone (characters, audience, author) over until then ^_^ Oh, and I agree that nothing beats the original names. 

SHEEEE-ITE that's entirely too many notes. Enjoy the fight club, kiddies… the good stuff's still to come.

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The next day's first unpleasant surprise came during block A Biology. As if it wasn't bad enough they seemed to be stuck with the world's most incompetent substitute teacher, twenty minutes into the lesson a considerably unwelcome figure appeared in the doorway. Ford grinned slyly when he spotted Rocco, and purposely chose the seat in front of him. Rocco reflected that Ford was EXACTLY the type of person you'd expect to be late for class, and fought the urge to mutter something along the lines of "typical".

"Just HAD to make an entrance, didn't you?" he whispered instead, somehow finding the courage to be so facetious.

"Of course," Ford responded flatly. 

Rocco found it supremely difficult to concentrate while staring at the back of his enemy's head. Ford had chosen this class on purpose, he realized, in order to intimidate and unnerve him before their battle. At the front of the class Mr. Gustavsen bumbled through the lesson, oblivious to Rocco's discomfort. And Rocco just continued to stare, hypnotized by those soft-looking purple strands. The former Light bot was musing on something that had been bothering him since their staring match the night before.

_I want to touch that hair._

There it was again, that unwanted, irrational thought. Rocco had begun to feel the pressing need to find out just how soft Ford's hair really was. He tried to think of Bruce, recovering from his injuries in their small basement suite. Ford had hurt his brother, threatened him, served the man who would love nothing more than to see Rocco dead. Rocco didn't understand his own impulses in the least, and the confusion they caused was beginning to make his head hurt. Just… to reach out and… and…

Suddenly the lights went out, and it occurred to Rocco why he had been so concerned with Ford in the first place. NOT because of some inexplicable gravitation toward his HAIR, of all things – but because of their impending fight. The nervousness that had momentarily abandoned Rocco now returned in a stomach-churning rush. Any other day he would accept this as a simple power outage. Today, though, Ford was here – and that in itself didn't bode particularly well. And what WAS Ford doing right now? Rocco's eyes had drifted away from the enemy, but now they quickly snapped back. Ford had not so much as moved from his desk, which would have been somewhat of a relief if not for what Rocco heard.

_He's… _Rocco thought in disbelief, _he's… humming?_

Indeed, Ford was humming softly the fourth song of the previous night's set, the one during which Bruce had been attacked and injured.

_How utterly creepy._

The classroom had been quiet until now, the students making use of the morning sunlight to continue their work. Now they stared at the purple-haired boy, wondering at his apparent eccentricity. Then, all at once, he stopped.

"Gutsman," he said, and Rocco was surprised to see Mr. Gustavsen perk up, "make sure none of these twerps interrupt Rock and me. Okay?"

"Sure thing. Should I give the word, then?" Mr. Gustavsen asked, reaching for the classroom-to-classroom phone.

"You do that, Guts." Rocco could HEAR the grin in Ford's voice.

Suddenly it all made some terrible kind of sense. Of course Ford didn't come here alone, not in such a vulnerable (if powerful) human body. In his agitation Rocco had failed to notice just how familiar "Mr. Gustavsen" was. Wily had probably sent an entire ARMY of Robot Masters to dispose of Rocco. No wonder this guy couldn't teach Biology worth a damn.

Gustavsen said a few words into the phone, and the room was abruptly plunged into darkness as steel shutters rolled over the windows. The P.A. crackled, then broadcasted a voice that made Rocco's blood run cold.

"Please excuse this… interruption, students," that voice said in a tone that was not the LEAST bit apologetic, "but my friends and I have a small matter to attend to. You may have you school and teachers back soon enough – I assure you they are quite safe."

Rocco didn't trust that last statement. He didn't trust ANY of it, in fact, because the man behind that voice was undoubtedly none other than Dr. Albert Wily. Looks like he'd done more than just send his minions this time. The entire school seemed wired to serve that madman's purpose, to cage Rocco in. At first Rocco failed to understand why Wily had created such an elaborate setup, rather than simply raid his home or take him down on the street. Rocco had come to this world through Wily's fortress, so the Doctor had probably known where he was from the beginning. Why all these month of conniving, and all this effort to convert a high school into a deathtrap? Then it occurred to him just how sadistic Dr. Wily really was. 

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He's trying to scare me, thought Rocco. _He could have even rigged this school up sooner than he did… but he wanted to this world to get to me first, to weaken me. He knew I was human. And this is some kind of emotional torture for his amusement._

"Forte, finish him," Wily commanded, and the P.A. clicked off.

Ford didn't move. Rocco wondered if maybe he'd finally had enough of the Doctor's blatant insanity. He wasn't counting on it, though.

The P.A. crackled again, "Sometime TODAY, perhaps?" Wily's voice conveyed not a little impatience. 

Ford sighed. "You know, Rock," he said, "I'm feeling generous today. I'll give you a thirty second head start."

"I'm not going to run," Rocco said defiantly, fighting the urge to do just that.

_Generous nothing. He's toying with me as much as Wily is. _

"Have it your way."

Rocco hadn't so much as blinked before Ford was on his desk, one hand clutching the smaller boy's shirt, the other drawn back for a punch. Caught off guard and restricted by the desk he sat in, Rocco was unable to avoid the blow and his world exploded in a myriad of stars. He could dimly hear shouting as pain blossomed out from his left temple – the students had finally realized what was going on and now meant to come to his aid. Rocco would have been touched had he not been somewhat distracted by the situation at hand. Then he heard Mr. Gustavsen bellowing threats, and the students grew silent once again.

He looked up just in time to see Ford preparing for another hit. This time Rocco had the presence of mind to duck, and dive gracelessly out the side of his desk. Ford didn't miss a beat, but stood and leapt off the desk, aiming a foot at Rocco's lower back. His target's reflexes had diminished little, if any, in the past months. Rocco managed to roll out of the way and scramble to his feet before Ford could get in another hit. At last the brunette assumed a defensive position, realizing he postpone their fight no longer. 

Ford charged immediately, fangs bared as he roared. His shoulder met Rocco's chest in a move Rocco recognized from the night before. The smaller boy found himself pinned against the classroom's back wall, Ford's left hand securely around his neck, his right pulled back in a familiar gesture. It was the position Forte always took before he used his blaster – he seemed to have forgotten he was unable to do so here. When it finally occurred to Ford that his hand wouldn't be morphing into any vastly destructive weapon, he faltered, and Rocco took the opportunity to escape. Grabbing the whiteboard ledge behind him, Rocco lifted both feet and drove them into Ford's stomach, forcing the former Wily bot backwards and off balance.

"YEAH! Kick his ass, Rocco!" his band's drummer, Josh, yelled.

"I told you kids to SHUT UP!" shouted Gustavsen, roughly knocking Josh to the floor.

_I have to get out of this room, or they'll hurt the students, _thought Rocco.

He bolted for the door just as Ford regained his footing. Rocco turned the knob, relieved to find it unlocked, and had barely pulled it open when Ford barrelled into him from behind, sending him sliding across the hallway floor. The hall was somehow even darker than the classroom, allowing Ford to quickly gain the upper hand. He was upon Rocco, kicking the boy's ribs and stomach. Now determined, Rocco grabbed his opponent's leg and swiftly pulled Ford's feet out from under him. Ford fell hard on his back, paralized momentarily as the wind was knocked out of him. Rather than run, Rocco finally went on the offensive and launched himself at a temporarily defenceless Ford. He though of his brother as he did so, of the pain Ford had caused Bruce the night before, and anger began to overwhelm the fear and reluctance. Rocco managed a good hit to Ford's face before the former Wily bot recovered, blocked the next blow, then resumed his attempt at strangling Rocco.

"Heh… finally decided to fight back, huh?" Ford was grinning madly again, still without a hint of humour in those eyes.

Rocco snaked his free arm around Ford's and twisted. The boy's grip on his neck loosened and that mirthless grin vanished as Ford cried out in pain. Rocco was roughly thrown aside; Ford was instantly on his feet and aiming a kick at his side. The brunette dodged the hit and stood, then drove a high, fast kick into Ford's jaw. The taller boy reeled back, then charged Rocco again. This time Rocco was able to remain on his feet, flailing and stumbling his way into the school's front foyer – to the exact spot, in fact, where he and Ford had met the day before. He dodged a punch aimed at his head, and winced at the sound of Ford's fist connecting with the pillar behind him. The former Light bot slipped around the pillar and onto the yard-high, foot-wide wall running from that support to the next. He was on defence again, stalling for time while he racked his brain for a solution to their dispute. But Ford refused him the luxury, joining him on the wall. Nimbly, he flipped into a handstand and let his own momentum launch his foot into the side of Rocco's head.

Rocco flew backwards through the window to the food services kitchen. On his way he somehow managed to trigger another one of Wily's metal screens – by way of a motion detection beam, most likely. Ford watched, dismayed, as the barrier dropped down over the window. Refusing to let his opponent off so easily, the violet-haired boy dashed across the foyer and dove headfirst into the minute space between the window ledge and rapidly closing screen. Once inside the tiny room he was unable to halt his progression; his head connected with a sharp counter edge and he fell to the floor, unconscious. Rocco had suffered a similar fate upon his own entrance. So it was that the two enemies lay unmoving in that small room, concealed from and dead to the world as it continued outside. Yet even the frailty of their human bodies could not keep from waking before long, and facing each other again.


	4. The Truth

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NOTES: Short notes today, as I've apparently got a fifteen-minutes time limit. After much deliberation I've decided to stick with shounen ai as opposed to something… spicier, if you will, as this story lends itself more to fluff than all-out smut. That and I've lost my confidence with explicit sex scenes since my X-Files fic writing days of old. I wonder, though, what my boyfriend will say if I ever tell him he's being indirectly used as "research material" ^_^

Thankee-sai's this chapter go to: Miss Marisa, AD-Chan, Popcorn Oracle, Gimp 666, Teri-Teri, and Gimp 666 again. For those of you who asked, this chapter's got a lil bit o' explanation of how they got there. True to my word, I think you'll find it very vague and implausible. "Portal" is such a beautifully ambiguous word.

Finally, the Late Update Excuse o' the week. See, my Yearbook teacher told me on Tuesday that I'd somehow have to finish my cover design by Friday, around the same time my Lit teacher announced a re-test on Thursday. Long story short, the cover turned into the longest CG job of my entire life, and I had to skip infotech class to study for the re-test. The good news is I have a chance to get my design on the cover (I'll try to get it up at Mediaminer when it's been cleaned up), the bad news is I probably went down in flames on that Metaphysical poetry essay, worth 20 marks or so on the test.

Didn't I say I was going to keep this short? Keh, I digress. Thankee thankee again for the reviews, as they have kept this story alive throughout the Week O' Hell. You people are too good to me. And now, what you've (possibly) all been waiting for… LET THE BOY-LOVE COMMENCE!

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Consciousness returned to Rocco with excruciating slowness. It was like crawling up out of a deep, relaxing sleep – only it hurt a lot more. He groaned as the feeling returned to his battered body in short jabs and pinches, centring on what he suspected was a broken rib. Never had he missed more the perks of autorepair. Maybe it would just be better to pass out again.

A noise to his right offered a convincing argument against that thought. Rocco hadn't realized he wasn't alone in the small food services room. His eyes snapped open, and after they adjusted to the lack of light he took stock of his surroundings, all the while avoiding any excessive movement. What he saw made him momentarily forget his pain. There on the floor to his right sat Ford, back propped up against a cabinet door, head down and face obscured by hair. The sound that had brought Rocco to consciousness had been Ford's breathing, which came now in shaky, erratic bursts. That sound could only mean one thing, and Rocco dared not believe it.

_Ford is… crying?_

"…Ford?" he said after a moment's hesitation.

The other boy said nothing, but Rocco heard his breathing catch. Ford evidently hadn't noticed his adversary's awakening. A heavy silence hung between them until Roco tried again.

"… Forte?"

He responded to this with a choked coughing sound, probably meant to be a chuckle. Even in the dark Rocco could see a glint of white as Ford forced a grin.

"Rock," he said simply.

The brunette sat up carefully, trying not to aggravate his injuries. That rib didn't feel broken, now that he thought about it, just bruised. Not that he'd know, really, having never broken a rib before. Slowly, he made his way across the floor and knelt beside Forte's outstretched legs, facing the purple-haired boy. It was then that he noticed the darkness on Ford's hands. He peered between the violet strands at Ford's face and gasped at the amount of that darkness he saw there.

"You're bleeding."

He didn't wait for Ford to respond, but stood, and grabbed a cloth from beside the sink, wet it, and returned to the former Wily bot's side. Ford showed no sign of moving, to attack or otherwise. He just sat there breathing shakily with closed eyes, so still Rocco wondered if he was unconscious again. With utmost care, Rocco pushed back Ford's hair and began to wipe the blood and tears from his face. The source of the former was a fair-sized gash above his right eye where his head had connected with the counter edge. When Rocco came to it he gingerly dabbed the wound with a clean section of cloth. Ford reacted instantly, roaring in pain and swatting Rocco's arm away. Rocco watched, confused, as Ford hunched over, hands hovering just over the cut on his forehead.

"Aaaugh!" he cried. "Shit! Ah DAMMIT!" It HURTS! It FUCKING HURTS!"

Rocco was baffled. It was only a superficial cut, if a particularly nasty looking one. Ford's curses subsided to incoherent moans and periodic gasping sobs. Not knowing why he was so concerned about the person who had, only a short time ago, been trying to kill him, Rocco placed a comforting hand on Ford's arm. The sounds of suffering stopped, and Ford spoke again.

"Wily… built into me the ability to feel pain. But that was only an imitation, wasn't it? I had… no idea. That something so small could reduce me to… to…" Ford couldn't finish the thought, and grew silent once again.

Rocco's eyes widened. He understood now; h remembered his first few weeks as a human, and his first experience with pain. Light was good at what he did, but he never could have prepared Rock for what real pain felt like. Even small bruises and cuts had been debilitating until Rocco finally got used to the sensation. Ford had probably only been there for a few days, and his injuries were far worse than Rocco's had been during those first weeks.

"This body is so WEAK," Ford spat. "It hurts in ways I didn't know were possible. I don't even understand my own thoughts any more. I thought I wanted to impress that jackass, Wily. I thought I wanted to prove myself to him, to be powerful, and most all to kill YOU. Those things… they've driven me for as long as I can remember."

Ford looked up at last, his eyes once again full of that fierce emotion Rock had glimpsed the night before.

"So Wily builds this stupid gateway, this portal to whatever the hell this world is. Finds out it turns robots into humans when they cross over. The whole thing was a trap – you know that, right? We were supposed to lure you and Blues into his lab and send you through. He thought it would be easier to kill you without Light or your weapon to back you up."

_Why is he telling me this? _Rocco wondered, more confused than ever.

"He was thrilled when I crossed over into a relatively strong body, and gave me the _privilege _of finishing you off. Suddenly, though, I'm wondering why I serve that fool in the first place. Why do I spend my life bent on destruction? I don't want to prove myself to anyone anymore, and I don't particularly want to kill you. I don't UNDERSTAND this, Rock."

Forte put his hand on Rocco's shoulder, causing the smaller boy to jump, then swallow nervously.

"And what I DO want… Rock, I…" Ford faltered, "I had… no… idea…"

With these last words, Ford's eyes took on a pleading look. Then the hand on Rocco's shoulder slid down to his collar and tugged, bringing Rocco's head forward until his lips met Forte's. Blue eyes widened as red ones closed. The feeling of Forte's lips against his awakened emotions and sensations in Rocco so new and exquisite they threatened to overwhelm him. This was what it had been about; the stirring in him when they had gazed at each other for so long, the irrational need to touch Ford's hair, even the intensity of his initial reluctance to fight. Without even realizing it, this was what he had wanted.

Maybe this feeling had been there before he entered this world and body. But if Dr. Light had failed to accurately synthesize pain, he had done even worse with love. What Rock felt as a bot was some general affection for his family, and a sense of responsibility toward the rest of the world. He loved enough to protect. But this, THIS love was so different, so unique to this human mind. So GOOD. This kiss had joy and fireworks and emotions yet unidentifiable welling up in his head. Tears formed in his eyes, pleasure danced down his spine, and when he finally pulled away pinpricks of fire remained on his lips. And THAT kiss had been relatively chaste.

Ford looked even worse for wear, almost comically so. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused with pleasure, half-lidded as his entire face had entered a state of supreme relaxation. He licked his lips, a small gesture that sent a jolt of desire straight through Rocco. The brunette raised a trembling hand to the side of Ford's head, tangling his fingers in the soft purple hair that hung there. His impulse was satisfied, his curiosity rewarded with the feel of locks softer than even he had imagined. Overjoyed even by something so simple, he let his eyes slip shut as Ford drew forward and recaptured his lips.

Rocco responded eagerly this time, crushing his lips against Ford's with an amount of force that seemed to surprise the purple-haired boy. If their reactions to that first kiss had been good, the sensations they experienced this time bordered on euphoric. All rational thought left Rocco the instant he felt Ford part his lips with his own, and slip a warm, hesitant tongue inside. He did this all with deliberate slowness, forcing both of them to savour the moment. And savour it they did. 

Rocco's tongue countered Ford's danced with it briefly then pushed forward and ran across his teeth, careful of the fangs. Every movement of Ford's lips and tongue sent a bloom of warmth through Rocco, spreading out from his mouth to envelop his entire body. When Ford sighed and shifted his attention to Rocco's lower lip, sucking and gently biting, a shiver coursed down Rocco's spine.

And when Ford's hand crept under the hem of Rocco's t-shirt, the shiver became an outright shudder, on of pure, instinctive pleasure. The slight touch of fingertips against skin left trails of heat, deep firey impressions that brought forth a gasp, then a quiet moan from Rocco's mouth. Ford's palms then met the soft skin of Rocco's stomach. The smaller boy arched his back, pressing into those burning, outspread hands. They crept around Rocco's body, their deft thumbs rubbing circles on the boy's back. 

Looking to further decrease the space between them, Rocco placed a hand on Ford's thigh and pushed himself closer to the former Wily bot. At the contact, Ford's leg twitched noticeably, and his kiss grew even more intense. He dragged his hands up the brunette's side until they met the bruise Rocco had earlier mistakened for a broken rib, at which point the former Light bot tore his lips from Fords and hissed in pain.

"Rock, what –" Ford asked.

"Augh, ah… it's nothing," Rocco sat back on his heels and looked away from the taller boy.

Ford lifted Rocco's shirt and inspected the bruise with a mixture of concern and sadness in his expression. His hand hovered over the wound, then pulled back and clenched into a fist.

"I hurt you," Ford said.

"It's okay, Forte," Rocco assured him, "it doesn't hurt much at all."

"But… I hurt you." Ford closed his eyes and lowered his head, letting those purple strands obscure his face once again.

"And I did it for that asshole, Wily. He made me think I was invincible because I could tolerate 'pain'. He made me hurt you and your family. Rock, I don't want to be his servant anymore, not now that my will is my own. I want to pay him for everything he's done…"

Ford looked up them, and with a hand that shook almost imperceptibly – whether with desire or anger, Rocco couldn't tell – gently caressed the side of Rocco's face. 

"… most of all… what he's done to you…"

He spoke these last words in a whisper, then planted a soft, chaste kiss on Rocco's lips, and both boys rose from the floor. They found the door to the hallway unlocked and left the small food services room. The corridors were still dark and empty, making them wonder just how long they had been unconscious. Something occurred to Rocco.

"Fort – Ford, did Wily install any cameras when he rigged up the rest of the school?" he asked.

"No," Ford replied, then chuckled softly, "he was confident we could keep an eye on you. He WILL try to check in eventually, though… I'm surprised he hasn't done so yet."

As if on cue, Wily's voice rang out from the speaker above them, and every other speaker within the school.

"Forte, are you quite finished? I can't believe even YOU would take this long to kill that little blue shit. If you're not to BUSY, I'd appreciate a status report."

Ford bristled and stalked over to the nearest phone. Rocco went and stood by his side, watching as the purple-haired boy jabbed angrily at the buttons and waited to be connected to the office.

"Hey BOSS, I'm working on it," he said icily. "That bastard's faster than you thi--… no, I've got this covered… look, half and hour's all I need… yeah, fine."

Ford hung up the phone hastily and grabbed Rocco's arm, breaking into a run with the smaller boy in tow.

"Do you know anyone who can hack into Wily's system?" Ford asked.

"Josh is pretty good at that sort of thing," Rocco replied. "Why? Where are we going?"

"To find a computer," Ford answered, "and ruin the good Doctor's afternoon."


	5. The Parting

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NOTES: Oog… Well, I promised AD-chan I'd get this up tonight, and damned if I'm not going to do JUST THAT. Sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed – I'm uncharacteristically short on demi-useless verbal padding tonight ^_^

There's one note I absolutely MUST attach to this chapter: that being a call for suspension of disbelief. Now that I think about it, the fact that this story involves the Rockman universe at all calls for it in the first place, but this bit's on a slightly different matter. See, there's a scene at the end of this where Rocco and Ford have something of an audience for their displays o' affection. That audience being entirely composed of high school students in a school based on my own, it is unlikely that, in reality, these students would have reacted in such a mature and accepting manner. Meaning there would have been at LEAST one shout of "FAGS!" from the back (or front) of the room. Why? Because my school is stupid. Very, very, stupid. The average IQ couldn't get its own drivers licence. Morons, all of them. However, I have noticed (much to my delight) that most yaoi/shounen-ai fics put their characters in a relatively accepting environment, and as such have decided to do so myself. Rocco and Ford have ENOUGH on their plates. 

End today's social commentary.

Begin thankee-sai's ^_^: Crystalstorm 21, Teri-Teri, Gimp 666, Miss Marisa, Marisa again, and AD-chan. Special thanks to Bibly and AD-chan for the absolutely AMAZING fanart pieces they've done for this story. Would you two mind if I linked to them in the next chapter?

Oh, and Marisa: Heh… that's what sequels are for *tents fingers, grins evilly* And oh yes, there WILL be a sequel… 

As for this story, the next chapter will be the last, but it'll be fluffier than this one (*gack* maybe even fluffier than chapter four o.O).

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"Cutman has the computer lab, so I'll send him out on some asinine errand and you can clock him when he gets out the door," Ford explained as they rushed down the corridor. "Where's our hacker right now?"

"Josh is in the Biology room, where we started," Rocco told him.

"Good. Guts is a moron, I can convince him I need Josh for bait or something."

Ford instructed Rocco to wait outside while he retrieved the drummer. The brunette could hear muffled voices as negotiations went on within, until at last the classroom door opened and Josh exited in a flurry of curses and flailing limbs.

"The joke's on you, moron! Rocco's too smart for some lame-ass trap. Christ, if you really did hurt him I'll – " Josh stopped when he noticed Rocco leaning up against a nearby block of lockers.

Ford closed the door behind him as he left the room, and couldn't help but grin at Josh's confusion. The boy's dyed black hair brushed the sides of his face as he looked from Rocco, to Ford, back to Rocco, then at the floor in a show of defeat.

"Right. I don't get it," he said with mock dejection.

Briefly, the boys apprised him of the situation – excluding, for now, the reason for Ford's treachery – and the three of them set off toward the computer lab. Once there, the previous scene repeated itself, this time with the slight variation of two boys with raised table legs standing outside the door, rather than Rocco alone. Cutman passed through the door in a huff, evidently disliking Ford's claim of authority, and was promptly knocked unconscious by the aforementioned boys and table legs. Rocco and Josh then entered to the sound of wild accusation.

"… just bust in here and make a bunch of stupid announcements?" one of the more outspoken students, a girl with mousy brown hair in a low pigtail, was saying. "You could have at least let us OUT of this hellhole first."

"He's not in charge here, Katherine," Josh said, walking over to stand beside Ford.

"The guy who made the 'stupid announcements' is," Rocco explained. "His name's Wily… Ford's just his lackey."

The last part was in a teasing tone, and Rocco grinned impishly up at Ford as he said it. Ford narrowed his eyes, then surprised Rocco by sticking his tongue out in a an endearing, if childish gesture.

"Wait… didn't Mr. Cutright just say something about you KILLING Rocco? What in blue heck is going on here?" Katherine asked.

"A little thing we like to call 'rebellion', m'dear," said Josh.

"Ford's gonna help us take back the school, and kick Wily's conniving ass," Rocco added.

"And I," said Josh, grabbing the back of Katherine's wheeled office chair and sending it rolling across the room, "am going to require the use of this computer.

Ignoring Katherine's protests, Josh began rapidly tapping at the computer's keyboard, confident and, before long, completely ensconced in his work. Ford and Rocco grabbed chairs and drew up behind him, watching the screen over his shoulder. Every so often Ford would offer some direction, instructions on what he wanted done. Other than that the room was silent, air thick with tension. After awhile, Ford took out a small electronic device, about the size of a cell phone, its most prominent feature an embedded jewel the same colour as the one on Forte's armour's chest plate. Rocco peered at it curiously.

"It opens the portal back to the lab," Ford answered his unasked question. "We can go through and bring your teachers back, maybe find something to use against Wily."

Rocco nodded, and tried not to think of the complications of going back. Would they stay there once Wily was taken care of? If so, how would they deal with all the Robot Masters? And what about Blue? Rocco's friends? He dearly wanted to see Roll and Dr. Light, but could he really stand to leave this place without even saying goodbye to the companions he'd gained in the past months?

His thoughts were interrupted by Katherine, who had rolled her chair up beside him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. She was giving him a particularly suggestive look which he immediately recognized as her signature form of jest. She was friends with most of Rocco's band, and took great pleasure in mercilessly teasing the lot of them.

"Aw, did Rocco get beat up?" she crooned, leering, "wan' me to kiss it all better?"

Rocco smiled and chuckled, his mood alleviated for the time being. He knew she was joking; Josh was the only one she ever seriously propositioned.

"Grrrrrr…"

Ford, however, clearly did not know.

Rocco turned to see Ford hunched over in his chair, glaring at Katherine and growling deep in his throat. He continued like this for a few seconds, until he realized Rocco was looking at him, at which point his face took on a confused expression. It was as if he wasn't entirely sure why he'd been angry in the first place. Rocco smiled, recognizing his friend's first experience with real jealousy. Then it occurred to him just why Ford was jealous, and felt a slight blush tint his cheeks.

"Well, whaddaya say, hun?" Katherine poked Rocco, having been deprived of his attention.

"You know Kat, I'm RIGHT HERE," Josh pointed out.

"So you are," Katherine said nonchalantly, turning her attention away from Rocco and throwing her arms around the black-haired drummer. "I promise, I'll never do it again."

"Heh, sure. At least not when I'm around."

"Oh, you spend half your life with your face pressed up against a computer monitor anyway." Katherine kissed Josh's cheek affectionately, and the two continued to banter.

Ford and Rocco, meanwhile, had managed to lock themselves in another heated staring match. The feeling this time was more tender than competitive, however. Confident that Katherine was no longer a threat, Ford had relaxed considerably and now gazed at Rocco with a decidedly melancholy expression. There was a sadness in those crimson eyes, and he wanted Ford to be free of it.

"Ford?" said Josh.

Ford didn't respond, in fact didn't even seem to hear.

"Ford?" Josh tried again.

"Huh?" the purple-haired boy started.

"I can deactivate the doors and shutters, and cut off the P.A., but as soon as I do this guy's gonna figure out the jig is up," Josh explained, still tapping madly away at the keys.

"Um… I believe we call that a 'moot point', boys," said Katherine, looking past Ford and Rocco at the open door. "Mr. Cutright is gone."

Indeed he was, apparently having awoken and departed while they were otherwise occupied. None of their other classmates had noticed, as their attention was already split between Josh's ministrations and Ford and Rocco's curious behaviour. Josh continued his task with renewed energy, his fingers blurring with increased speed. 

Within minutes the shutters had retracted from the windows, allowing relief and sunlight to flood into the classroom. The students didn't leave, however, as the classroom was on the second floor (making a window escape out of the question) and they didn't want to risk running into any of the "substitutes" on the way out. Ford asked Josh to retrieve a code from Wily's database, opening the portal generator to reveal a small, glowing keypad. Once he had entered the correct combination, Ford placed the generator on the whiteboard and held his hand over the jewel at its centre, motioning for Rocco to stand behind him.

"You TREACHEROUS, INSOLENT little shit!" came a voice from the doorway, that of a particularly incensed Dr. Wily.

Ford's eyes flashed at the sight of his former master. He slammed his hand down on the jewel without hesitation, and the generator began to glow. Suddenly Wily was across the room, his body being infinitely more agile in this world than in his own. He placed his hand over Ford's and pressed it into the transforming generator. The low humming that had begun with the portal's activation rose to a high-pitched scream, and sparks began to fly out from under Ford's hand. The electronic wail was soon joined by the sound of Ford's painful cries.

_He's forcing the portal's energy into Ford's hand, _Rocco thought frantically, _he's burning him!_

Rocco charged at Wily, jumped onto his back, and hooked an arm around the Doctor's neck. Showing his strength had increased as much as his agility, Wily easily extricated himself from Rocco's grasp and threw the small boy to the ground. It distracted him enough, however, for Ford to grab his jacket collar and remove both of their hands from the sputtering portal generator. A door-sized rectangle of purple light appeared on the wall in front of them. Rage driving him, Ford all but threw Wily through the portal, then sank to his knees, cradling his seared right hand.

"Forte!" Rocco rushed over to Ford and knelt at his side.

"Rock," Ford choked, face twisted in agony, "I can't let you go through."

"What? But we have to – "

"I can finish him off. It'll stop hurting once I cross over. Wily can't come back through this way, but he'll be waiting for us on the other side, and he'll close the portal behind you if you go first. It's already set to automatically close behind me, so you couldn't follow either."

"So we'll both go through together," Rocco argued.

Ford shook his head, "No. I can send the teachers back before I kill Wily, but once he's dead I won't be able to make any more portals. You can't leave Blues here and… I don't want you to get hurt again."

"Don't kill him, then. Come back with the hostages and seal off the connection."

Ford said nothing, but opened his eyes at last, revealing to Rocco the extent of the pain he felt. His hand was blistered, smoking, its owner trembling from the burn's sensation. Rocco understood. How could he convince Ford that it eventually got better, that after a few weeks the intensity of physical pain faded to a bearable level? His friend couldn't live with the aches and strife of being human, and Rocco hadn't the heart to force him to do so. He sighed and helped Ford to his feet.

"Goodbye, Forte," he whispered, fighting the impending tears.

"Rock…" Ford gasped, breathing heavily as the pain overwhelmed him.

Ford faced the portal, and looked ready to leave when suddenly he turned, and pulled Rocco in for a final, heated kiss. Rocco didn't hesitate, but responded – quite justifiably so – as one who will never see his partner again. The tears came at last, spilling down his glowing cheeks and onto their joined lips. This time a fierce ache accompanied his former feelings of love and passion. And when it ended, when Ford tore his lips away and disappeared through the portal without another word, Rocco felt more empty than he ever had in his human form.

He sat down heavily, not caring that the eyes of every student present was on him. The violet light had disappeared along with Ford, leaving only a blank whiteboard to stare at. Slowly, Josh approached his stunned friend.

"Rocco… Rock – " Josh faltered.

"Rocco. It's still Rocco, Josh," the brunette insisted.

"Rocco, was that… did he mean… did you come from the same place he did?"

"More or less."

"Who was he?" Josh asked.

"He WAS my enemy, once. Now…" Rocco trailed off, and sighed.

"Now what is he?"

"Gone."


	6. The End and the Beginning

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NOTES: Laaaast chapter! It's short, so you can think of it as an epilogue of sorts, if you like. And it's so fluffy you could brush your teeth with it.

Getting this chapter up so soon was mostly an excuse to post the fanart piece for it, which can be found at http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=113918 and is, for once, in colour. The GOOD stuff, however is as follows:

Bibly: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=104094

AD-chan: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=112002

Incidentally, it was AD-chan's "Megaman and Zero" pic that inspired the use of a wall in this chapter.

Thankee-sai's today are for AD-chan, Crystalstorm21, Teri-Teri, Marisa, Bibly, and Bibly again. AD-chan: oh, but there's BOTH ^_^ final chapter AND sequel… eventually. Bibly: more fanart? *drools* Hey, I should toy with people's emotions more often ^_^ As for that "sexy side", well… just you wait for the sequels. Oh, and if Gimp666 happens to come around here again, I just wanted to say that my AIM appears to have died on me, but I do have MSN (e-mail is thexpiig@hotmail.com) and ICQ (# is 37402917).

One final obligatory explanation before I get on with it: the use of "human" and "robot" names, _ie _Ford/Forte and Rocco/Rock. As long as they're in this world, the narration will refer to them as Ford and Rocco, so as to avoid confusion. However, the characters themselves will refer to each other MOSTLY as Forte and Rock, partly because they're used to it and partly because it adds an almost "pet name" aspect to their relationship. 

Behold, the Last Bit!

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Afternoon sunlight slanted through the trees and onto a small, lone figure on a low brick wall. The crisp autumn air caused Rocco to shiver as he sat there waiting for his bus to arrive, arms wrapped around an acoustic guitar he'd borrowed from a bandmate. He'd begun to learn guitar around the same time he picked up the bass, though he was not nearly as good at the former as the latter. Now he absently strung together a few random chords, playing more to relax than anything.

Between the disappearance of the "substitutes", the reappearance of the actual teachers, and the school's return to relative normalcy, Rocco's tears had stopped and he'd regained some amount of composure. Those of his friends who hadn't witnessed Ford's departure at least knew enough to heed Rocco's request that he be left alone. He'd promised Josh and Katherine he would tell them everything once he'd had some time to think.

He did think, too. About Ford's choice to leave, his inability to handle the downs of being human. About what would have happened, had Ford decided to stay. Rocco and Bruce were able to buy food and pay rent by working part time – Rocco mostly on weekends, Bruce on nightshift, having only afternoon classes to attend. Ford could have found work and stayed with them.

__

It could have worked, Forte. Dammit, didn't you ever think of the ups of humanity? Didn't you realize how good it could be?

Tears returned to Rocco's eyes, and he found he could no longer concentrate on playing guitar. He placed the instrument back in its case and leaned it up against the wall, then gazed down the street in search of a bus. Leaves danced in the air before him, their golden surfaces catching and reflecting the sunlight. Everything around him seemed to defy Rocco's mood, maintaining a natural glow that would have reminded anyone of this world's beauty, physical or ethereal. All it did was remind him that Ford would never see it this way, from this point of view.

"Miss me?"

Suddenly, Rocco was encircled by a pair of well-toned arms and pulled backwards to rest against the chest of… someone, with an almost unmistakable voice. Rocco's eyes widened as he turned his head to see Ford, chin resting on Rocco's shoulder, a playful look in those blood red eyes. None of his previous injuries seemed present, much to Rocco's relief.

"Forte! Wh – " the brunette began, grinning.

Before he could finish, Ford had leaned hard to the left, sending them both toppling to the ground behind the wall. They landed facing each other, and rolled until Ford lay on top. The taller boy then kissed Rocco for all he was worth. Their lips came together with nearly enough force to bruise, and within a second Ford's tongue was lining Rocco's mouth with fire. Rocco's hands slipped around Ford's back, gripping the thin material of his shirt. He leaned upward, encouraging, begging more. Both boys lost themselves in the sensation of each other until at last they were forced to part, and breathe again. 

"You came… back," Rocco gasped between breaths.

Rather than respond, Ford rose unsteadily to his feet, then helped Rocco up.

"Is Wily dead?" the smaller boy asked.

Ford shook his head and looked at the ground.

"First rule of robotics," he muttered bitterly.

Rocco started, surprised he had forgotten something once so important to him. Ford couldn't kill Wily in this world because he was too weak; he couldn't kill him in his own world because his programming forbade him to. The choice was to be frail, or to be a slave. Did this mean Wily was back in this world? That Ford would spend his life here running from, or fighting his former master?

"I destroyed the main portal generator," Ford seemed to read Rocco's mind. "Set it to self-destruct once I came through."

Rocco let the significance of this sink it.

"You can't go back," he stated quietly.

Ford looked up again, into Rocco's eyes. His look was not as tortured as it had been, back in the school's computer lab. It was uncertain, and weary, but it held no regret. Rocco hoped it meant Ford had realized what he had been unable to tell him, that despite the physical and emotional anguish that came with being human, the positive aspects of such an existence made it somehow worthwhile. 

"I thought it would be great to go back," said Ford, "to feel invincible again. It wasn't just the physical pain that got to me. Ever since I got here I've thought more about my actions than I ever did back there. If there's one thing Wily forgot to give me, it was a conscience. Now I have to deal with guilt, grief, fear… I thought it would be easier if I went back."

"Why didn't you stay?" Rocco asked.

__

Say it, he silently begged, _say you figured it out._

The taller boy looked uncomfortable, uncertain of how to express what he wanted to say. He had apparently acquired not only a full range of human emotions, but also the natural reluctance to voice them. Instead he gathered Rocco into an embrace, pressing his face against the small boy's neck. Rocco savoured the feel of Ford's warm breath on the sensitive skin there, and waited patiently for him to speak.

"I realized that, as bad as those things were," Ford whispered, and kissed the underside of Rocco's jaw, "THIS… was too good to give up."

"Yes!" exclaimed Rocco, hugging him tighter. "That's it, Forte! You did it, you said it!"

Rocco heard a squeal, then a hiss behind him, and realized the bus had finally arrived. Stepping back, he took Ford's hand and produced a bus pass and bus ticket from his pocket, handing the latter to the purple-haired boy. Rocco lead Ford down the grassy slope to where the large, boxy vehicle waited.

"Where are we going?" Ford asked.

"Home," said Rocco. "You can stay with Blues and me – although I think we're going to have to do some explaining, first."

Ford winced, remembering his earlier attack on Bruce. Looking back as they boarded the bus, Rocco noticed the reaction and squeezed Ford's hand reassuringly.

"He'll understand. He might not be very NICE to you for awhile, but he'll eventually get over it."

Rocco was finally rewarded for this with a smile. He turned and swiped his pass, waited for Ford to drop the ticket into the slot, then the two of them headed toward the back of the bus. Afternoon quickly turning to evening, the sunlight had now faded to a pale blue glow. It shone on the cold metal doors as they swung shut and the bus continued its gradual progress. Inside and outside, life went on.

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OWARI

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	7. Bonus Round!

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NOTES: Thankee-sai's go to Marisa, Teri-Teri, Bibly, AD-chan, Crystalstorm21, and Popcorn Oracle. You've all been great to me during the writing of this fic; in fact, I'm sure it never would have been finished if it weren't for your support. Arigatou ^_^

And now…

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preeeeee-senting:

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THE NEW ADVENTURES OF FORD AND ROCCO: an _On Humanity _sequel in comics

Thass right kids! A sequel! This time with handy-dandy visuals, as it's in *shine sparkle etc* COMIC FORM! ^_^ I couldn't resist – you'll see why when I post page two. It's just a one-shot, and will be about four or five pages long when finished. It can be found at either of the following:

http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=115082

or

http://www.geocities.com/truthandproof/fordxrocco.html

As with most fics, I'd appreciate some feedback either on this story's review board or at mediaminer. Hope you like this one as much as the first ^_^ It's a bit less serious, and much more pointless. But it's got plenty o' snoggin. 


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